Our wedding’s roughly a month away. I’m not exactly sure when that happened. Final payments have been paid. We have our guest total. The decorations are finished and tucked away in plastic totes for transfer to the beach house. (After we realized we only ought two owls last year – complete and utter brain fart) We even have the favors assembled and in the plastic totes, ready to go. There are still a few stray tasks left on the calendar (my fiance’s vows, which I know he hasn’t written despite several months of badgering), but we’re in the final homestretch. Custom (or is it tradition? Maybe obligation?) states I should be excited or at least nervous by now.

I’m not, though.

I’m tired, which I think I’m entitled to at this point. Other than the few tasks I’ve placed on my fiance’s task (Kuiil goes on top of them – our private joke), I’ve handled the bulk of the work. You can translate that to the majority of the stress. (Okay, I was going to shoulder the stress, no matter what – it’s what I do) I’m allowed to feel tired. I knew how much work was going to be involved; that never frightened me. I’m a dedicated worker, after all. Feeling tired is a badge of honor. It means I survived the process intact. More to the point, so did everyone else. (And, believe me, there’s a list of people who came close to funerals)

I think the problem is I’m more upset than excited; more disappointed than anticipatory. I knew back in March that things weren’t going to fall out as planned, but there’s a difference between theoretical thought and reality. Talking yourself through worst-case scenarios A-Z differs from watching them come to fruition. Eventually, you run out of internal pep talks, and they become mechanical recordings on auto-repeat.

And then the guilty side of your brain joins the fracas.

What right do you have to feel bad? Friends aren’t even HAVING weddings this year, and you’re upset yours isn’t turning out the way you thought? No one’s wedding is approaching “normal” this year – get over it. (As if the words “get over it” have ever actually worked in the history of the phrase) I bury my disappointment in cheer and the phrase, “I understand completely.” Never mind the words stopped having any meaning months ago.

Was stocking up on hand sanitizer and soap part of the original plan? Nope. Did I expect my father to gift us with two digital forehead thermometers to check guests as they enter? Definitely not. Was I planning to spend every day of the week in the house wiping down counters and surfaces with disinfecting wipes? No. Have I confronted all of those things with a gracious smile? Yes.

Do I spend at least ten minutes looking at the stack of RSVP cards sitting on my desk every day? Yeah. (Never mind that there’s no reason to even keep them at this point. The responses are logged in my binder, the preferences are marked in my notebook, and I have the answers burned into my brain) Have I avoided responding to an email because I can’t muster a bright, cheery response even through misinterpretable text? Yes. And does my guilt eat into me every single night? Of course.

So, no I’m not excited.

Probably a terrible thing to say, and I’m sure I’d catch shit about it in normal social circles. Do I have doubts about one aspect of the ceremony or reception? Of course not – I planned everything years ago. We’ve thought through the contingencies and made sure we’ll keep everyone safe. It’s not how things were SUPPOSED to go, but do I have doubts it will be anything less than it should be? Of course not.

But am I excited? No. I’m just tired. Tired and sad. Maybe talk to me in a month and ask me then. My answer may be different then.

In a little under six months – November 14th, to be precise – is our wedding day. It sounds like a lot of time, plenty of time to finish up the details yet to be finalized and checked off the list in the binder currently living on the coffee table shelf. When I first bought the whiteboard calendars and set up a reasonable schedule for tasks, I thought so, too.

Enter COVID-19.

See all of those check boxes at the bottom of June? Yeah, some of those are carryovers from April: tasks we had to bump when doors were slammed shut. While we’ve been able to move some things up and handle them online (where would we be without Etsy?), others require physical visits and shifts in the schedule, waiting for lock-down to lift. Now, being the hyper-organized individual that I am, the schedule was already “early” to account for a fiance’ who hates getting on the phone, talking to people, and has a schedule less flexible than mine. Plus, I come from a military family – you always build in extra time for Murphy’s Law.

So I told myself to breathe and take it easy – there was still time. And, really, we’re doing fine. We had the bulk of the planning done before the New Year, and there are tubs of favors and decorations under the bed in the guest room, all ready to go. Neither of us wanted to stress about the wedding from the beginning, so we made sure we had the game plan laid out from square one (okay, square two – I didn’t scare him with my Pinterest boards until the day after he proposed). We’re okay.

And then I felt like shit.

Why was I feeling okay and relaxing when so many other people were cancelling or rescheduling their weddings? When people were losing money because asshole corporations were flipping them off with a, “Too bad – your contract doesn’t cover plagues” answer? When people were making do with quiet champagne toasts at home – maybe with bouquets left on their porch if friends and neighbors dropped by? (What would the world do if alcohol wasn’t deemed essential?) When people were taking photos with everyone in masks – such a treasured memory? (Now, if you went with the zombie apocalypse theme, I apologize – it worked)

I wanted to crawl into a corner and hide. I was smiling over receiving my beautiful shoes in the mail, laughing over choosing the comics to include in the origami bouquets and boutonnieres, grinning over finally ordering our wedding bands, and shrieking over how adorable our cake toppers were. (Okay, to be fair, those last arrived before lock-down ever started) What kind of person did that when other people were miserable and crying? Who feels excited and plans when other people watch significant dates pass in the rear view mirror? (Our date isn’t significant, in case you wondered)

Oh, right – a bride.

See, I never went to prom. In fact, I’ve never attended a formal event of any kind in my entire life. This wedding is the fanciest thing I’ve got. And a wedding is a one-shot deal. (Don’t quote divorce numbers to me – I know them. I’m an idealist…well, when it comes to marriage. I’m definitely only doing this one). Why shouldn’t I be happy and excited and continue with my planning?

It doesn’t mean I can’t still feel bad and sympathetic for those around me, though. Amazing as it seems to some people, but I can feel more than one thing at a time. I can be happy for my fiance’ and myself, and still send condolences to my friends. After all, it’s not like those wedding planners come with a caveat: “Make sure you anticipate the world going into lock-down and plan accordingly.” No one thought about this over a year ago, thought this was going to be a possibility. They were just happy.

And the universe is a sick, twisted entity.

We all know that NOW. (So if you get engaged during this lock-down – think long and hard before planning a big wedding. I’m just saying) Besides, I’m not in the clear yet. Guess when that second wave is getting predicted for: yup, November.

Panicking sounds fun, and I’m really good at it, but it won’t accomplish anything. And, as I said before, we’re already ahead of the game. Which means we’ve also started the Back-up Plan. We know – from current complaints and articles – the company renting the beach house won’t refund our money or let us out of our contract. Okay – no biggie; maybe we just have the family out for the wedding. It’s a BIG house, so staying separated won’t be a problem. And, really, who doesn’t like cake?

Will it be what we originally planned? Probably not. Does it matter? No. If all that mattered was the wedding, you’re getting married for the wrong reason.

So for the people who are planning and excited – good for you. For the people who cancelled or rescheduled and feel sad or miserable (or pissed) – I see you, too, and I feel for you. There’s no wrong way to feel, and that’s what really matters.